Sunday, May 31, 2009

I hope the people responsible for Tiller's death feel shame. The sort of all consuming feeling of being wrong, of being terrible that stalks you in the corners of the evening, that strikes in the middle of the night. The stain that can't be washed out with anyone's blood. The feeling that Jesus is hanging on the cross, crying in shame, because of you. Always, under the skin, until they die.

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